


Run Like Hell

by nothingwithoutyouxo



Series: Six Day Hurricane: A Collection [1]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, One Shot, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 08:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwithoutyouxo/pseuds/nothingwithoutyouxo
Summary: When Moritz shows up with a black eye and a desperate need to leave, it’s all Melchior can do to grab his car keys and drive off into the night.





	Run Like Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldengalaxyboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengalaxyboy/gifts).



> Hello again! I'm working on this little collection of one shots titled after the songs on Johnny Gallagher's album Six Day Hurricane because I adore it deeply and I've been listening to it a lot lately. The title for this one comes from Two Fists Full and while the story itself doesn't have anything to do with the song, the title lyrics are perfect and I was waiting for a reason to write this. Oh and this is unbetaed so any mistakes are all on me. I hope you all like it!

Neither of them were ever really sure when it started. They’d known each other long enough that their memories always seemed to include each other somehow, and even if these memories weren’t very pleasant neither of them could figure out a time period. Melchior thought that it must have started in their freshman year of high school. Moritz was sure that it was before then, but it wasn’t something they ever spoke about. It just happened. It was habit, routine that they’d moulded around each other. Whenever Moritz had a particularly bad night at home. When his father, wasted or not, was throwing more than punches (plates, furniture, etc.), Moritz escaped to Melchior’s house. Most of the time he managed to leave before the fights started, but sometimes he showed up with cuts and bruises. Sometimes he was bloody, every time he was equally shaken. Moritz would tap on Melchior’s bedroom window and Melchior would let him in, no questions asked. He had a first aid kit in his room for these nights that he kept regularly stocked. Melchior had done a first aid course at some point through school and he kept up with the qualifications enough that it eased Moritz’s mind whenever he poured liquid onto cotton balls and carefully cleaned cuts, some deeper than others. 

 

They never spoke about it directly. They talked about pointless things, like what book Melchior was reading or a TV show that Martha had been telling Moritz about. They never talked about the bruises or the blood or the reason they were there. Moritz knew that Melchior knew what was happening. He knew about his dad, and everything that came with that, but they never talked about it. Moritz was so grateful for that. He’d never be able to find the words to explain what happened anyway. He was sure that whatever Melchior could come up with would be close enough to his reality anyway. 

 

Tonight had been different. It was much later than usual, closer to midnight when Moritz ended up finally escaping. It wasn’t as bad this time. He’d only gotten a black eye this time. Melchior’s house wasn’t really that far away from him. It was about a 20 minute walk. If you were running like you’re life depended on it, which often it felt like he was, it only took Moritz between ten and fifteen minutes. He jumped the small wall that separated the Gabor’s front yard from the street and managed to make it to Melchior’s window without tripping over anything (which was a feat within itself). Sometimes Moritz wondered if Melchior ever really slept, because he was always awake when Moritz got there. Maybe he could somehow sense which days were worse. He’d probably never know. He tapped Melchior’s bedroom window five times. It was a methodic knock that the two of them had decided on when they were younger. It was the pattern that their elementary school teachers would clap to to get everyone’s attention. Somehow it made sense for this situation. 

 

Melchior looked up at the window, noting the messy head of dark hair on the other side. Moritz rarely looked up at until he was inside. Melchior was sure that most nights it was either to hide bruises, or Moritz’s pained expression. It never took him more than a second to jump up and open the window, gently helping his best friend through. He was always grateful that he had the only first floor bedroom in the house on nights like these. Moritz didn’t seem to be in nearly as much pain as usual, which was just another thing for Melchior to be grateful for. 

 

“Moritz, it’s almost one in the morning,” Melchior whispered, as Moritz made it into the room, straightening up and checking for any leaves that he somehow always seemed to pick up on the way there. 

 

“I know, Melchi. I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have -”

 

“No. No, Moritz, it’s ok. You know you never have to apologise for coming here,” he interrupted, pulling a leaf out of Moritz’s hair that he couldn’t notice. 

 

“How?” Moritz looked down at the leaf, confused. 

 

“Do you run through bushes on your way here?”

 

“A park, but no bushes.”

 

“Maybe it fell off a tree?”

  
“Maybe.”

 

The two boys looked at each other. Melchior noticed Moritz’s black eye, his brain quickly noting what he needed to treat it.  _ Black eye = ice to stop swelling _ . Moritz was a lot more jittery than usual, unable to keep still and constantly looking like he was ready to rush out of the room again. Melchior wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t relaxed yet, even just a little bit. 

 

“Melchi, I - I can’t stay here,” he stammered, staring at the ground intently. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I really can’t. I know that I shouldn’t have -”

 

“You don’t have to -”

 

“I know. I know but - but - you’re the only person I know that I can drive and I need to - I need to get out of here, Melchi.”

 

Melchior wasn’t sure if he meant forever, and as fearful as that idea was Moritz had all the reasons to want that. He was almost too scared to ask. Moritz hadn’t come with anything. He hadn’t showed up with a bag and a secret stash of money that he’d been keeping all this time, so Melchior took that as a good sign. Just for the night then, the two of them. Moritz deserved that much. 

 

“Please, Melchi,” he added, when Melchior didn’t respond. He could see Melchior’s brain working a mile a minute, probably already coming up with some kind of plan. A destination for the two of them to go to. Moritz didn’t care as long as it was away from  _ here _ . 

 

“I just need to get some ice first,” Melchior muttered. “For your eye,” he added when Moritz just looked confused.

 

“Oh.”

 

Melchior grabbed the jacket closest to him, a well-worn hoodie, and handed it to Moritz who’d started shivering as the shock of the night started to catch up to him. “You might want to put this on, it’s cold out.”

 

“Not when you’re running.”

 

“We’ll be driving, not running,” he replied, grabbing his wallet, keys and phone and shoving them into his pockets.

 

“Doesn’t your car have any heat?”

 

Melchior looked over at his best friend, noting immediately the smirk on Moritz’s face. They always teased each other like this. It was how they communicated. “Of course it has heat.”

 

Moritz threw on the jacket, wrapping it tightly around himself. He knew that it would help with the shivering, though that was never from the cold. He was sure that Melchior knew that. While he wasn’t that much shorter than Melchior, somehow the hoodies always seemed to flog him. It helped with a sense of security on nights like these. A sense of safety and, of course, warmth that always came with being with Melchior.

 

“Come on, I’ll get you the ice,” Melchior smiled faintly, picking up his leather jacket on the way to his bedroom door.

 

“Your parents,” Moritz reminded, suddenly panicked.

 

“They’re upstairs. Asleep. It’s ok, Moritz,” he reassured. 

 

Moritz nodded but didn’t move, still alarmed. Melchior held his hand out and somehow that seemed to help. He took it and let Melchior lead him through his silent house. They stopped by the kitchen first. Melchior letting go of Moritz’s hand to grab an ice pack out of the freezer. 

 

“Keep this over your eye and when it feels too cold you can take it off, ok? It’s just to stop swelling,” he explained.

 

Moritz nodded, taking the ice pack and holding it carefully in his hands. He almost hated that they had to do this. Melchior always had to save him somehow, whether it be from his father, bullies at school, or his falling grades. He wasn’t ever sure how to correctly show the gratitude he felt for that, but Melchior never seemed to need it. 

 

The two of them made their way out of the front door, Melchior keeping the key in the lock so he could close it silently. Once in the car, he didn’t turn his lights on until the end of the street, creeping carefully far enough away from his house that he could rev the engine and speed off towards the highway, almost smirking at the familiar laugh Moritz gave at that. 

 

***

 

“Is it possible for your eye to freeze over?” Moritz asked, the bright lights of the highway blurring as they gained speed.

 

“Not to my knowledge, but I guess anything is possible,” Melchior replied, not looking away from the road.

 

“It’s kind of starting to feel like it’s freezing over.”

 

“Then you should probably take off the ice.”

 

Moritz looked over at him, noting Melchior’s smirk that was more familiar to him than anything else. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight of it. He shoved the ice pack into the glovebox and looked out the window, watching the yellow lights and relished in the feeling of freedom that was spreading through him.

 

“Are you ok?” Melchior asked, glancing over at Moritz as he stared out of the window. He was curled up in his seat now, Melchior’s hoodie managing to cover pretty much all of him. There was something peaceful about that, which wasn’t usually a mood that surrounded Moritz.

 

“Just thinking,” he replied, watching as another car drove along near them. “I can’t think of any reason why anyone would be driving at this time of night.”

 

“Maybe they’re running away like us.”

  
“Us,” Moritz muttered, more to himself than to Melchior. “That’s a nice thought.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Oh. nothing.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah, just thinking out loud.”

 

“If the silence is bothering you then you can put the radio on. Or I could grab my iPod for you,” Melchior suggested, knowing that Moritz could only stand so long in complete silence, and they had a long drive ahead of them. He reached between them, opening the middle compartment where he kept his iPod, Moritz jolted in his seat at the movement.

 

“No, what are you doing? Don’t do that. Keep both your hands on the wheel. I’ll get it,” he protested, untangling the AUX cord carefully and turning on Melchior’s iPod.

 

“I have no idea what’s on that. Ilse likes to add ridiculous artists to it to piss me off.”

 

Moritz scrolled through the list of artists, knowing immediately which ones he meant. He bit down on his lip to try and stop himself from laughing. “Like the entire discography of Justin Bieber for instance,” he said.

 

“What? I’m going to kill her.”

 

“And the High School Musical soundtrack.”

 

“Oh no, that was me.”

 

“What?”

 

Melchior shrugged, looking at Moritz out of the corner of his eye. “I watched those movies with Wendla and we added them. I haven’t listened to them yet but they’re there in case I get a line stuck in my head or something.”

 

“Well, I guess I can’t fault your taste,” Moritz teased. 

 

***

 

“Do you even know where you’re going or are you just driving?” Moritz asked, turning Green Day down just a touch so that he could hear Melchior’s response. They’d been driving for the better part of two hours and while Moritz knew that he could trust Melchior, his anxiety was slowly eating away at him. It helped fight off his urge to sleep, and he wondered if Melchior was feeling the same way. Neither of them had slept at all and driving while fatigued wasn’t ever a good idea. Moritz was suddenly worried that he’d made some kind of mistake. 

 

Melchior smiled at that, his eyes glinting in the blurring lights from the highway. “Do you really think I would just run away with you without a plan?”

 

“Honestly I wasn’t really sure if you’d run away with me at all,” he shrugged, looking out the window to avoid Melchior’s eyes. 

 

“We’re going to the beach,” he said, “because I know you’ve never been. By the time we get there it’ll be just before sunrise and if you want we can watch it over the water. And for the record, Moritz, I’d go anywhere with you.”

 

Moritz wasn’t sure how to respond. He fiddled with the volume of the radio, skipped ‘Wake Me Up When September Ends’ and muttered something about it being “too sad.” He wasn’t sure why Melchior seemed so happy about all of this but maybe that meant that this would become a more regular occurrence. Moritz wasn’t really sure if he cared where they were going, he was just happy to be in the company he was. Next time he’d have to ask if they could bring some of their other friends with them, Ilse and Martha at least. They’d probably enjoy it too. 

 

***

 

Moritz had probably never seen this many trees in his life. He’d never had a reason to leave town before, and didn’t know just how  _ boring  _ the scenery would be. It clashed viciously with the euphoria flooding through him with every meter that this put between him and his house, particularly his father. There was something so reassuring about the speed they were driving at and the fact that everything blurred around them. Moritz sometimes thought that nothing else existed, nothing outside of the car at least. He wished it could be as easy as that.

 

“You know what?” Melchior muttered, breaking the silence that had formed between them. He was sure that Moritz was getting tired now, the fact that he hadn’t slept catching up to him. He was curled up in his seat, arms wrapped around his knees and leaning his head against the window. 

 

“What?”

 

“There’s gotta be an alternative to Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

 

Moritz looked over at his best friend, confused. “I’m not sure it’s your random timing or not but that’s a weird thing to bring up.”

 

“I know, I was just thinking about it. It’s weird, you know? Shouldn’t there be a version that’s less …”

 

“Extreme?” Moritz supplied.

 

“Yeah, extreme.”

 

“I think there is one,” he shrugged. “It’s something like … hug, be stuck in an elevator with, get drunk with, or something.”

 

“See? That’s more exciting?”

 

“Are you calling sex boring?”

 

“Not boring, just unnecessary.”

 

Moritz almost startled at that. “Melchior, are you ok?” he asked, suddenly worried that he needed to check his temperature to see if he’d come down with something.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Really. I just think we put too much focus on it, you know? We being me, and most of the society, I guess.”

 

“Melchi, I’m serious. Do you need to pull over? Have you been driving too long?”

 

Melchior laughed at that. “No, Moritz. I’m fine. My opinion has just … changed over time you know. What do you call that usually?” he teased.

 

“A cause for concern?”

 

“I was going to say character to development but I guess you can see it how you want to,” he shrugged.

 

Moritz wasn’t sure what to take from this. He wasn’t sure what Melchior was implying - if he was implying anything at all - or if he was just seriously sleep deprived and had no idea what he was saying. All he knew was that Melchior looked 100% serious and that he was sure that was supposed to mean something. He just didn’t know what. 

 

“Sorry, I guess that all sounded less weird in my head,” Melchior apologised, glancing over at a very worried Moritz. 

 

“No, I guess you just don’t usually talk like that, but I don’t think it was worth an apology.”

 

“Well, you have one anyway,” Melchior replied. He thought over the words again in his head, they seemed to be the right thing to say. Maybe it wasn’t the right time to say them. Trust him to get at least one of those wrong. 

 

Moritz thought for a moment, twisted his hands in his lap and his ring around his finger. “Ok, so hug, be stuck in an elevator with and - wait what was the other one? Oh, get drunk with. Um, Thea, Hanschen and … um, Otto.”

 

Melchior tried to pretend he didn’t notice Moritz rolling his eyes at the smirk that easily appeared on his face. “It’s a process of elimination. I’d hug Thea, because not only would that surprise her, especially coming from me, but I think she’d be happy about it.”

 

“She’s always happy about hugs,” he reminded.

 

“Exactly. For the elevator I’d go with Otto, because between the two of us I’m sure we could figure a way out of there.”

 

“Wise choice.”

 

“And that leaves Hanschen to get drunk with. I’d do that because I’m pretty sure he needs to relax a little.”

 

“He’d probably just talk about Ernst.”

  
“Yeah, and he’d talk about Ernst and maybe I’d actually be able to persuade him to ask Ernst out instead of waiting for him like an idiot.”

 

“Good luck with that,” Moritz laughed. “Hanschen is a lot harder to talk to than you think.”

 

“I’ve had economics with him for four years, trust me, I know.”

 

***

  
  


The beginning of the sunrise was preparing to creep over the horizon as the two of them pulled up in the beach’s parking lot, which proved that Melchior had been right about the timing. There wasn’t a single soul around, and Moritz didn’t think he’d ever get over how perfect that was. Nothing was better than hearing the sound of Melchior laugh as he quickly jumped out of the car and headed towards the sand. He stopped, struck by the smell of the salt coming off the water and just how  _ fresh  _ the air was. He could feel it breathing life into his lungs and washing away any negativity that he had left in him.  _ This  _ was freedom.

 

Moritz heard the car door slam and turned to see Melchior smiling at him. He looked content, more content than he’d been in weeks, probably months. More content than Moritz could ever remembering him being on nights like these when the focus was so often avoided the problem as much as they could. They still hadn’t talked about it, and Moritz wasn’t sure if they were going to, but he thought that he might have reached a place that he could. Maybe the salty air was giving him a confidence that he usually lacked. 

 

Melchior knew that the hood of his car was the perfect vantage point. He’d only seen it in about 50 different movies. He climbed carefully onto it, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles. “We’ll get a good view from here,” he explained, indicating for Moritz to join him. 

 

Moritz climbed up next to him, crossing his legs beneath him and staring out towards the water. It was a relatively clear morning, not many clouds littering the sky as it turned such a wonderful shade of gold that he knew there was nothing more priceless. 

 

“I think I picked a good spot,” Melchior muttered, smiling at just how amazed Moritz looked. 

 

“I agree with you on that,” he replied, watching as the sun hovered just above the horizon, causing the water in front of them to sparkle. 

 

“I thought it’d be good for us, you know? I can’t believe you’ve never been to the beach before. We should come more often.”

 

“Us?” Moritz asked, looking over at him.

 

“Yeah, us. You and me. The two of us.” There was something playing behind Moritz’s eyes that Melchior couldn’t quite grasp. He wasn’t entirely sure but it almost looked like Moritz was planning something.

 

“I, um have something to say about that. Us, I mean.”

 

“You do, aye? I thoughts words were usually my thing?” he joked. 

 

Moritz looked over at him. He could still see the sunrise out of the corner of his eye, the sky now blending gold with a pastel pink that Wendla would die to paint. It didn’t take him more than a few seconds to make up his mind, because talking wasn’t really what he wanted in this moment. Moritz surged forward quickly, grabbing onto the front of Melchior’s jacket and capturing his lips in a kiss. To his credit, Melchior didn’t take more than a second to respond either, quickly moving one of his hands into Moritz’s hair and pulling him closer with the other. 

 

“You’re right,” Moritz breathed, pulling away just slightly. “Words are your thing. Actions are more my thing. At least, I think that’s what that was.”

 

Melchior’s eyes were wide and he looked the perfect combination of surprised and absolutely delighted. He just smiled at him in return. “If you were trying to make me speechless, you succeeded,” he said.

 

“I didn’t even know that was possible.”

 

He laughed at that, took one of Moritz’s hands gently in his. “You know you’re missing the sunrise.”

 

Moritz shook his head. “This is better.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You mean I drove you all the way here in the middle of the night for nothing,” Melchior teased.

 

Moritz smirked at that, tugged on Melchior’s jacket again. “I don’t know if I would call this nothing.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite sure yet what the next one of these is going to be, but I'll add it to a collection when I have the second one done. There's nine songs on the album and I have five ideas (including this one) so hopefully it'll be soon. Until next time!


End file.
